


... seriously, Hanamaki?

by Ink_stained_quills



Series: Hanamaki Disease: Disturbing the peace of volleyball teams everywhere [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: :D, KageHina - Freeform, Karasuno, KyouHaba - Freeform, M/M, Seijoh - Freeform, Tsukiyama - Freeform, asnoya, daisuga - Freeform, eh, hanamaki disease, i mean not really?, iwaoi - Freeform, matsuhana - Freeform, not an au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:02:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22295242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ink_stained_quills/pseuds/Ink_stained_quills
Summary: They thought the Hanamaki disease had been a one time thing - but one fateful practice match against Karasuno, they discover they're wrong.  (Much to the chargin of Karasuno.)
Relationships: Azumane Asahi/Nishinoya Yuu, Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei, Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru, Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi, Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Series: Hanamaki Disease: Disturbing the peace of volleyball teams everywhere [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1604839
Comments: 31
Kudos: 531





	... seriously, Hanamaki?

**Author's Note:**

> Shoutout to Xev (Xevikan15) for all the both the first line of this story and the wonderful comments on the last fic, you single handedly convinced me to write this lol
> 
> Song: Dying In LA by Panic! At The Disco

Hanamaki lied. It happened again, in the worst timing possible: an actual match against another school.

“Karasuno, huh?” Matsukawa muses, eyeing the players. “They’ve got carrot top, angsty boy, zero confidence kid and beanpole for first years, yeah?”

“Damn, no mercy?” Hanamaki raises an eyebrow, grinning. “... which one is angsty boy?” He receives only a tired look, and feels the need to explain himself: “They’re all either way too hyper or super… I don’t know. It’s way too early for this.”

Oikawa clicks his tongue, disappointed. “It’s ten thirty, Makki.”

“Did I stutter?”

Clapping them both on the shoulder, Iwaizumi steers the two boys (Matsukawa following calmly behind) over to where the rest of the team are already stretching. “Come on. We’re in their gym, so -”

“So we should show them up so bad, they’ll never dream of picking up a volleyball again!” Oikawa exclaims, looking all too pleased with himself.

Iwaizumi looks at him for a long moment, then whacks him. “No, Shittykawa, we have to behave - a foreign concept for you lot, I know - Kunimi, I know you can stretch further than that.”

“It’s like he’s captain, and Oikawa is…” Hanamaki comments to Matsukawa, pausing as he tries to come up with a good descriptor.

“A brat?” Matsukawa replies.

Kindaichi looks up from stretching. “A member of a boy band?”

“Exhausting.” Kyoutani says with finality. Though Yahaba swats his shoulder lightly, he doesn’t protest.

“Wha? Iwa-chan, the team is bullying me!”

As Hanamaki chuckles, he flashes his gaze to the other side of the gym, where the various members of Karasuno are warming up - that is, if you could call what they were doing ‘warming up’. 

Numbers nine and ten were throwing volleyballs back and forth, seemingly trying to hit the tall, blond one ‘by accident’. 

“Sorry, Tsukishima!” The one with orange hair calls as he tosses one intentionally off center, smirking. Tsukishima dodges neatly out of the way, however, making their libero dive in to receive the throw. “Damn,” number ten mumbles. “I mean - yay, you dodged!”

Number nine huffs, irritated. “Dumbass Hinata, can’t even throw correctly -”

“Shut up, Bakageyama, you were scared of the tooth fairy when you were little.”

“That’s -” Kageyama retorts. “That’s a perfectly valid fear!”

“You probably thought Santa should be arrested for breaking and entering.” Tsukishima drawls. Yamaguchi sniggers behind the group, spinning a volleyball on his finger.

“Karasuno, you’d better be preparing for the match!” their captain calls to the first years as the bald wing spiker starts to yell something about meat buns. “Tanaka, no stripping until after.”

Hanamaki, idly amused, turns back to his own group. Maybe Seijoh isn’t so chaotic after all - “What are they doing.” Matsukawa simply slings an arm around his shoulders, putting more weight than needed on Hanamaki as the two watch their team.

“We call this “Chaotic Moron”.” Matsukawa pats his cheek like he would a small child. “This is a pretty picture, hmm?”

Hanamaki can only stare (and appreciate the warmth on his face) as he questions his teammates’ choices. Iwaizumi has been somehow involved in a pushup contest with Kyoutani while Oikawa and Yahaba discuss their bohemian spikers, Kindaichi watching in obvious awe. 

“Sit on their backs!” Watari suggests, laughing at the scandalized look on Yahaba’s face, then laughing harder as Oikawa takes him up on the challenge. 

“Damn, Iwaizumi isn’t breaking a sweat,” Matsukawa comments, impressed.

Hanamaki pretends to take offence at this, leaning away and gasping. “Are you just going to ogle every muscle bound man we pass? Does our relationship mean so little to you?”

“Well, if my own boyfriend isn’t muscled enough… I’ll take what I can get.”

Pretending to consider this, Hanamaki shakes his head. “I’ll forgive you this time, seeing as Iwaizumi is in fact very muscled. Frankly, anyone would stare.”

Oikawa glances up, sticks out his tongue, and almost falls of Iwaizumi’s back (how many pushups has he done, jeez). Yahaba’s going scarlet at “the very idea, Watari, shut up” while very conspicuously never taking his eyes off of Kyoutani’s body.

“Is he showing off?” Matsukawa wonders, nodding at the second year.

Sagely, Hanamaki nods. “I think they all are.”

“Ahh, youth…”

“Time to start!” Karasuno’s coach, the younger Ukai, is waving everyone to the net area.

“Play, play, play!” The tiny demons are chanting, Kageyama standing awkwardly next to the bouncier of the two until their backup setter emerges from the background, smiling like an angel. Then he smacks them upside the head. “Sugaaaaaa!”

Hanamaki makes a mental note not to screw with the angel.

Slowly, Suga makes his way down the line of Karasuno players, bullying them into submission - a tactic that seems to do wonders for any nerves they have, ending with hair ruffles for anyone looking put out by all the violence.

“And he does it so nicely, too…” Oikawa marvels. “Why is he not in the setter group chat?”

“Probably because the ‘setter group chat’ only consists of the two of us, plus Akaashi and Kenma.” Yahaba informs the captain, pausing. “... is it because you need an excuse not to put Shitorizawa’s setter in -”

Oikawa steers him away, cheering. “Let’s! Play! Some! Volleyball!”

Iwaizumi shakes his head, looking after the pair. “He’s so bitter.”

“But screw ‘em, right?” Hanamaki smirks, jogging after them.

There’s a brief, predatory grin that crosses the ace’s face. “Hell yeah.”

“Let’s have a good game!” Sawamura says, clasping hands with Oikawa. 

“Always, Dai-chan.”

“Never-skips-leg-day-san,” Hanamaki offers.

Matsukawa snorts. “Thai-chi.”

“... spry-for-his-age-chan.” Kunimi mutters, quiet enough that Seijoh can hear, but Karasuno’s left with irritated expressions and confused glances.

“I knew he was my favorite kohai,” Hanamaki remarks, “I knew it.” 

“... I wasn’t your child.”

“If you’re bitter about that, I’ll swap you for Kindaichi.” Matsukawa reassures him, then nods to the opposing team. “Shall we?”

~~~

Twenty minutes later, they’re panting from a particularly intense set. Watari eyes Karasuno with respect. “They really have improved, huh?” Hanamaki just nods, feeling inexplicably slightly sick.

Across the net, the freak duo celebrate a particularly difficult spike. They bolt toward each other, the short one pumping his fist while the setter’s eyes shine. The two look at each other for a charged moment before being rushed by their teammates, the baldy roaring as they congratulate the pair.

But then - just for a moment - the setter and spiker make eye contact again.

“Eyyyy,” Hanamaki whispers, then shrieks in horror.

Oikawa eyes him curiously. “Makki? It’s not that bad, they’re still not more than a point ahead of us.”

“No - Oikawa - eyyy - why did it come BACK?” Flustered, he shoves himself backwards. 

Matsukawa rubs a hand up Hanamaki’s arm, attempting to calm him. “Hey. Hey, gold digger. Light of my life, even more so than my Shrek nightlight. Bubblegum bitch.”

Hanamaki manages a strangled laugh, then waves off everyone’s concern. By now, Seijoh’s crowded around him (a few very determinedly not making eye contact) and Karasuno are staring at his mini panic attack through the net.

“What’s going on?” the libero asks nosily, storming under the net to jab him in the side.

“Nishinoya!” their enormous ace exclaims.

Nishinoya looks back over. “What? Sometimes all my brother needs to snap out of an attack is to get startled.”

“I’m fine,” Hanamaki protests, shrugging off his friends’ worry. “It’s just, uh - man, I’m going to have to tell the whole story, aren’t I.”

~~~

The two teams end up sitting against a wall as Hanamaki paces, embarrassed, in front of them to explain the situation (leaving out most of the details about the first occurance). “So. I guess we’re doing this again. It startled me, is all -”

Suga raises his hand as if they’re in school, looking up from where he’d been conversing with Daichi. “And you can’t help it? You’ve just got to go around, going ‘eeey’?”

“Eyyy, actually - oh, screw it. Doesn’t matter.”

“Hah!” Suga busts out laughing, wiping tears from his eyes as the rest of his team looks on, concerned and confused. “Oh, man - sorry, sorry! It’s just, ah, if I’m right -”

Daichi smiles fondly. “You usually are.”

“I know that, Dai. The point was -” Suga continues cheekily, swatting away his friend’s indignant attempts to poke him, “- the point was that if I’m right, this is going to be a very interesting game. And hopefully clear up some things for… some people.” He casts his gaze around the room, smirking. When Daichi tries to poke him again, Suga interlaces their fingers, leaving the captain slightly shell shocked, but neither let go. Not friends, then.

Hanamaki wonders how Suga can still manage to be so innocent looking. He probably practices in front of a mirror.

“Well, it’s whatever.” Matsukawa announces, getting to his feet. “Now, if you’ve finished with your Ted Talk…”

“I have indeed concluded my essay.”

Matsukawa flashes a devious smile. “We’ve got a practice match to win.”

~~~

Five minutes into the next set, Hanamaki sees it. The careful avoidance their freak duo has, the way they won’t look at each other. It could have been an argument, he supposes, but considering the way they’d looked at each other before… 

“Timeout,” Hanamaki calls, waving for Seijoh to huddle around him.

“We’ve got to get Karasuno’s ten and nine to look at each other,” he grins, “or at least angle for their blind spots.”

Eyebrows raised, Iwaizumi waited for him to continue. “What do you mean, Hanamaki?”

“They won’t look at each other since I explained about the whole - thing.” Hanamaki explains. “You haven’t seen it? They’re trying to avoid me pointing something out.”

“And we can exploit that.” Oikawa finishes, a devious look spreading across his face.

He grins. “Exactly.”

Karasuno doesn’t know what hits them when Seijoh returns (the mental game is as important as the physical), rejuvenated and tricksy. Oikawa sets the ball, tossing it to Iwaizumi, who spikes it in the freak duo’s blind spot - which, of course, wouldn’t have been a problem if -

Hinata’s eyes track the ball, spinning to follow it, and Kageyama’s already whirling -

Hanamaki’s there, rearing up to block, but his main purpose is making sure those two see him -

And they freeze. The ball drops, Nishinoya diving for it too late (he’d been under the impression that one of the first years would get it). “Shouyou!” he complains. “You definitely had that one.”

“Sorry, Nishinoya-san!” the excitable decoy apologizes, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. He makes as if to look back at Kageyama, then thinks better of it, glancing over at Hanamaki. To complete the charade, Hanamaki looks innocent and confused, his face the perfect imitation of an angel - 

“You look like you’ve just bitten into a lemon,” Matsukawa hisses.

Okay. Suga’s absolutely practiced that face in front of a mirror… Hanamaki admits defeat and gives Hinata a devious grin.

Time to play.

~~~

Karasuno’s concentration has gone to shit, really, and for the life of him Hanamaki can’t imagine why (cue maniacal laughter). The ace won’t look at the libero, even though Nishanoya’s staring with the heat of a thousand suns, and the beanpole middle blocker is looking everywhere but the sidelines. The freckled pinch server is fidgeting with his fingers.

Sawamura is smacking his forehead with his hands every other point. Suga looks like he’s half pleased people are figuring things out, half wishing they’d figure things out sooner because they have a match to play, dammit. The coach has left - Hanamaki’s pretty sure he’d muttered “I need a drink. Or less stupid kids.” as he’d exited.

Finally, Karasuno calls a timeout. Nishinoya complies, though he walks backwards in order to stare at Azumane the entire time. Kageyama and Hinata attempt to bicker without making eye contact, while Tsukishima keeps his eyes trained on the scoreboard.

“Right now, we have a choice.” Takeda takes a deep breath (Hanamaki’s pretty sure Oikawa’s not going to say anything as interesting as the literal soap opera that is Karasuno, so he’s watching them instead of focusing) and adjusts his glasses. “We can take this lying down. Or, we can get up, like we’ve done so many times before, and fly again. We can rise through the troubled waters, until we’re higher than anyone else - until we can look across the sky and the sun’s in our eyes.”

Hanamaki’s somewhat impressed - their teacher’s not half bad with metaphors. “Hey, Oikawa. Give us an inspirational metaphor speech.”

Oikawa looks up, duly apprehensive, and shrugs. “Yeah, okay.” He looks everyone in the eyes, letting the strength of his resolve shine through. “Right now, we’re like - the sunset.”

“Pretty colors, going to sleep…” Matsukawa drawls, and Hanamaki shakes his head. “Yeah, never mind. I’m going back to eavesdropping on Karasuno.”

“- so get your shit together, is what he’s saying!” Suga’s taken over the pep talk, patting their heads. “Show them what you’ve learned - is your pride worth this defeat?”

Hinata whines, then whirls around to look at Kageyama as if he’s preparing to be stabbed. “Eyyy,” Hanamaki calls, whistling and looking at the ceiling. Both flush, glaring determinedly, and Hinata raises an arm.

“Kageyama,” he begins, “you are almost as good as meat buns.” Hanamaki bursts out laughing, folding against Matsukawa, and the two howl in unison. Unbothered, Hinata grabs Kagayama’s wrists. “You’re like - the woosh, even if before you were more behhh. You make my eyes shine!”

The two Seijoh players are laughing so hard they almost don’t catch Kagyama’s response. The setter’s flustered, and the only thing he conjures up seems to be “I’m going to make you invincible!”

“I’ll settle for pork buns, really,” Hinata muses, “but that’s - ah. Yes, do that, please!”

Tsukishima scoffs, and Hanamaki feels a bit guilty. “Okay, that was actually kind of sweet. I’m gonna leave ‘em alone.”

“Nope!” Nishinoya yells, rushing across the court to grab him. Hanamaki casts a startled glance back at Matsukawa, who shrugs as if to say ‘hey, if you wanna be abducted by a second year the size of an elementary student, that’s your choice’. “Asahi!”

The ace flinches, staring at the wall until Nishinoya leaps directly into his face, stares into his eyes, and Hanamaki lets out a tired “Eyy.” “Frikin knew it,” the libero beams. “Yeah, you can go now.”

Hanamaki bolts back to his side of the court, dramatically whining about how he’s “barely escaped with his life” and Matsukawa threatening to “sue for damages, my boyfriend is a sensitive soul!”.

The game’s back on, take two.

~~~

In the end, Seijoh takes the set. But Karasuno takes the next, and the one after that, and then Seijoh takes the next one… they play so many sets, Hanamaki thinks he’s going to need a week’s worth of sleep (are Hinata, Nishinoya and Kageyama still at it?).

He’s bone tired, but - they were fun to play with - even if they’re a bit uppity. “Alright, guys,” Oikawa calls, gathering the team. “We’re going to head out.”

“Where’s Kyoutani?” Iwaizumi looks around the gym. “For that matter, where’s Yahaba?”

Matsukawa elbows Hanamaki in the side. “Did you try checking in the closet?”

“The sports closet, of course!” Watari chirps. “I’ll check there!” He rushes off, pausing only to get directions from Sawamura.

“I mean, that too.”

Watari returns a few minutes later, rubbing his face with his hands. Yahaba follows a couple feet behind, apologizing, while Kyoutani looks the opposite of regretful. His lips are suspiciously swollen, making Hanamaki mutter “Eyyyyy,” no condition required.

Oikawa opens his mouth, looks at his kohai, then waves his hand to lead them onto their bus. “Let’s go back to school, hmm~?”

Hanamaki interlaces his fingers with Matsukawa’s, tugging him out the door. “Yeah. We’ll get you next time, Karasuno!”

“And your little dog too!” Matsukawa shouts.

Kageyama scowls, Hinata and Nishinoya take it as a challenge, and Tanaka yells, “Never!” while the third years glower ominously. (Well, Daichi glowers. Suga smiles, yet somehow contains more menace than the rest of the team combined. Azumane looks generally terrified, yet defiant.) The others wave, and Seijoh climbs aboard their bus a great deal sweatier than they left it.

“That was weird, huh?” Matsukawa mutters. “The whole ‘eyy’ thing coming back.”

“Mmm.” Hanamaki agrees. “Think they’ll buy it if I start faking it? Ya know, influence the school.”

“... you shipper.”

“That’s fair.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope this was an okay sequel?


End file.
